


snickerdoodle

by knhknhknh



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Gen, SO MUCH FLUFF, a little angst in the middle but its v minimal, baking cookies together, cuties being cuties, this is rough i think??? but its kind of cute???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9050983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knhknhknh/pseuds/knhknhknh
Summary: Adrien spends the day before Christmas Eve with the Dupain-Chengs, but his favorite part is the late-night baking.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this is for espurr-roba on tumblr! i was your mlsecretsanta :) i wrote some fluffy christmas post-reveal adrienette!! i hope you like it and have a happy holiday!!

Tom says they should probably go ahead and finish closing up the bakery by eleven.

It’s 10:56 when Adrien decides he’s done just _watching_ Marinette ice flower after flower after flower onto the white two-tiered cake.

It’s great that she’s picking up extra shifts and helping her parents out. Adrien’s very proud that she’s such a kind person.

But he’s _bored_ and _hungry_ because he’s sitting in the bakery kitchen and he’s tired of hearing _Adrien please don’t eat the frosting out of the piping bag_.

It’s not his fault that it’s good frosting.

 _There’s got to be something more entertaining than this,_ he thinks. They’re literally just sitting in the bakery kitchens and it’s late and  —

“Let’s make cookies,” he says, sliding off of the counter.

Marinette snorts. “We have to be out of here in, like, thirty minutes.” She swirls the pink around in a perfect pattern as she squeezes the piping bag, and Adrien scrunches his nose. She’s paying more attention to the cake than him and this is _not acceptable._

“But princess,” he whines, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “Cookies!” Adrien tucks his head into her shoulder.

She rolls her eyes but sets the piping bag down on the counter. Marinette sighs, and Adrien’s arms are still wrapped around her waist and she figures he’s not letting up until she agrees.

He’s a little too much like a cat sometimes.

“Go grab a bowl,” she huffs, and her boyfriend squeals as he lets go and dashes towards the cupboards. “And at least let me finish the flowers on top of this, alright?”

“Yes, my lady,” he says, turning to wink and give her a two-fingered salute. He picks a glass bowl from the cupboard and sets it on the counter. “What next?”

“Well, that depends on what kind of cookie you want to make,” Marinette says, swirling the piping bag in her hand. “I mean, we have homemade recipes for sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies, they’re all a pretty basic, similar base so —”

A loud gasp distracts her from finishing the flower petal and she whips around only to see Adrien practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we make _snickerdoodles_?”

Marinette giggles. “If you want to.” She laughs again as Adrien claps his hands together like he’s six again and she turns back toward the cake.

“So you’re going to want to grab all of the main things, like the eggs and the flour and the sugar,” Marinette says. She rattles off the rest of the memorized list and manages to round the top of the cake off with its final rose.

After she slides the cake off of its stand and into the refrigerator, Marinette turns towards her boyfriend and grins. “Good job, kitty,” she pats his hair, running her fingers through the locks and he lets a small purr rumble through him.

Marinette shows him how they separate the dry ingredients from the wet ones and puts him on egg cracking duty so she can begin beating the butter in the giant mixer. But baking with Adrien is an adventure. He breaks five eggs; two were done for after he dropped them, another by him accidentally crushing it in his hands and two more he had hit too hard against the bowl. Marinette just decides takes over and puts him in charge of the dry ingredients because the recipe only called for _two eggs_ anyway.

He’s in awe that she cracks two with perfect ease.

It's times like this, Marinette realizes as she stirs the yolks and the sugar together, that Adrien’s childhood was vastly different from hers. She was baking cookies and playing pretend while he was posing in front of the camera and following orders.

She watches him sift the flour into the glass bowl, giddy and excited by the simple task. She wants to wrap him up in cuddles and cookies forever because he’s just too precious and deserves more than his father’s given him.

He can feel her eyes on him. “Are you checking me out?” He asks, glancing at her with a smirk playing on his lips.

“In your dreams,” she jokes right back. They dissolve into a fit of giggles because they both really know the truth anyway.

”So now we’re going to put what I’ve mixed together here  — the wets  — with what you just mixed,” she instructs, and Adrien brings the glass bowl over towards the one attached to the mixer. “I’d let you add in this, but you’re supposed to add a just a bit of the dry mixture at a time or else the flour will go flying everywhere.”

Adrien snorts. “Sounds like a disaster.”

“It really is,” Marinette adds, pressing the mixer’s button. “Being covered head-to-toe in batter sucks.”

Adrien watches Marinette fold the flour into the mixture, admiring her easy concentration and natural movements as she blends together the ingredients. When she’s done, she detaches the bowl from the mixer and makes her way towards the sink, dunking her hands under the water.

“What are you doing?” She glances at him.

Adrien just blinks. “Uh, standing —”

She dries off her own hands with a towel and motions towards the sink. “You can't just put cookies on a sheet without washing your hands.”

He looks at her, confused. They washed their hands earlier when they first started working, so why are they —

Marinette sinks her hands into the mixed dough and pulls out a clump. “We have to shape the cookies, you know,” she giggles.

“I, uh, oh,” Adrien stutters, making his way towards the sink himself.

They both are silent for a second, and Marinette hums knowingly. “It’s been awhile since you’ve made cookies, huh.”  
It was supposed to be a question.

It doesn’t sound like one.

Adrien shrugs, shaking out his hands before he dries them. “Yeah, I guess so. Maman and I used to make cookies all the time  — snickerdoodles especially, they were her favorites  — but...I, yeah, I guess it’s been awhile.”

She glances up at him, understanding and sympathetic. The way she smiles at him makes the worst of his feelings disappear. “We’ll just have to make some new memories then,” Marinette beams.

They separate the dough into smaller balls, rolling each one in the cinnamon-sugar mixture before spacing them out on the cookie sheet. When they finish, Marinette slides the cookie sheet off the counter and into the preheated oven.

“And now we wait,” Adrien says.

Marinette bumps the oven door shut with her hip. “Oh no, we won’t be waiting. We’ve gotten to the best part!”

He raises an eyebrow. “And that is?” 

“The _hot chocolate_ part.” Marinette pulls milk, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup from the refrigerator and sets it on the counter beside her. “Did you think we were going to eat cookies without hot chocolate?”  
Adrien can only grin at her.

He picks out two mugs for them  — the Ladybug and Chat Noir set he found for her last Christmas, of course  — and Marinette pours milk into a pot on the stove.

Her mother’s hot chocolate recipe is easy and makes perfect hot chocolate every single time. She remembers adding peppermint candies to the drink when she was younger, but the simple mixture of milk and chocolate syrup really makes the best cup Marinette’s ever had, and she’s glad she can share that with Adrien.

A part of her wonders if they’re going to be doing things just like this in ten years. Cuddling in their own apartment, watching the snow fall, making her mother’s hot chocolate and a batch of snickerdoodles.

Marinette sure hopes that she’ll find herself in the same situation in ten years.

She lets Adrien pour as much chocolate syrup into his mug as he wants, because she knows that he couldn’t ever eat that much sugar at home. They both laugh when Adrien tops off his drink with whipped cream and effectively gives himself a large mustache.

The oven beeps and Marinette pulls out the cookie sheet, cinnamon and sugar filling the air. Adrien reaches for a cookie but she swats his hand away because _you are not going to burn yourself over a snickerdoodle!_

“Hey, bug,” Adrien says once the cookies are cool. “I bet this would be really good dipped in hot chocolate.”

He breaks his snickerdoodle in half and dunks it into his mug, taking a bite and letting the chocolate-cinnamon-sugar goodness melt on his tongue.

Marinette must notice how he’s suddenly in heaven because she giggles. “That good?”

“Almost sweeter than you, my lady.”

She grins, and follows his footsteps by dipping her cookie into her mug too. “Mmm,” she murmurs. “That _is_ the perfect combination.”

The timer on the oven hits midnight, and Adrien raises his mug for a toast. “Merry Christmas Eve, my lady.”

“Merry Christmas Eve, kitty,” she beams, clinking her mug against his.


End file.
